


Too Many Memories

by Order_Of_The_Forks



Category: American Horror Story: Murder House, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Major Character Dead?, Major character death - Freeform, Murder House AU, Trans Evan, Tree Bros AU, ghosts!, listen i would love to say everybody lives/nobody dies au but that's a big fucking lie, real angsty fellows, there might be some zoe/evan for a moment but nah boi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 09:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Order_Of_The_Forks/pseuds/Order_Of_The_Forks
Summary: After dropping everything and moving to Maryland, Evan makes friends with some neighborhood kids who aren't what they seem.





	1. Pilot

Evan didn’t know exactly what happened.

All he knew was that he came home from work one day mid-summer to find Brian gone and his mother feverishly packing a suitcase. 

There was maybe a month of in-between, where Evan went to work and home and work and home and his mother met with the real estate agent and ignored his questions. 

Then it was revealed that Brian had cheated. And that they were moving to Maryland.

Evan almost had a panic attack when he found out. No, scratch ‘almost’- he did. Maybe he wasn’t the most popular kid in school, but people knew him. In the three years at his high school people had learned not to pick on him to read and not to choose him for group projects. At a new school, he would have to have a panic attack in each class before kids started to catch on that “hey, maybe the new guy’s a bit unstable.”

Evan had already gotten that out of the way freshman year; he wasn’t interested in doing it all again. 

But, as his mom’s third boyfriend had always said, he had the “moral backbone of a chocolate eclair.” So he didn’t protest. He didn’t say anything, just bit his lip and smiled and cried alone at night. 

Maryland. St. Michael’s. His mom said that it was right on the waterfront. That there were cute shops and seagulls and they could go crabbing on the weekends.

Evan thought she was tricking herself with fantasies of eternal vacation.

Their stuff, once packed, only took up the trunk and backseat of the car and half a U-Haul. His mom played music the entire car ride. Ten hours of weird punk music from when she was in high school. The punk music was always unexpected, as Evan’s mother was the kind of person to make gluten-free, vegan brownies for veterans on Memorial Day because “we don’t know their dietary restrictions, Evan!” The idea that in high school she worked in a record store and bleached her hair white and threw pumpkins off of parking garage roofs seemed unnatural. Evan didn’t even believe her until he found her old leather jacket in the cedar closet, decked out with safety pins and patches and everything. 

Evan sat in silence, staring out the window and trying not to look pissy. 

Brian had hated it when he looked pissy. Said he looked like a girl on her period.

Which was a pretty dick thing to say.

“They have a pretty cool maritime museum,” Heidi said. “I checked it out online. It has a big marina and all sorts of cool buildings about oystering and shipbuilding. You’d like that, right?”

“Yeah.” Evan mumbled. He really wasn’t interested in oysters. He thought they were disgusting; you can’t just crack open a shell, take out a gross little nugget of slime, dip it in butter, and call it a food, much less a delicacy. 

“This is going to be great!” She gushed, pointing at the Maryland border sign. “I promise, this move is the right thing for us. A fresh start. You’re going to be the exciting new kid, and I am going to be a strong, powerful single lady.”

Evan just sighed and watched the trees blur past. Everything seemed brighter; Maine’s trees were dimly green and dirty. Maryland was vivid and colorful like Oz. Just wait until fall, Evan thought. Maryland won’t be able to hold a candle to Maine once the leaves start to change.

They turned off of the highway. Heidi seemed to be vibrating with excitement. 

“We’re going to see the house first, okay? I think you’ll love it. It’s large and pretty and really old. Plus, it’s way in our budget.” 

Evan managed to smile. “Okay.”

“Ooh, there’s our street!” Heidi turned onto a small, suburban street. It was lined with green trees, a picturesque snapshot out of the gardening magazines they used to get. “I bet there are lots of kids your age to play with.”

Yeah, because seniors in high school still have playdates, Evan thought.

The house in question was a large, ancient-looking thing at the end of a long road. The realtor was waiting out front. She had a soccer-mom appearance, with a blue suit jacket, pencil skirt, and that weird pixie cut that every suburban mom seemed to have.

Evan’s mom walked up and rang the doorbell with the biggest grin he had ever seen. “I love it.” She beckoned Evan up to the porch and enveloped him in a jittery bear hug. “Don’t you love it? I mean, it looks even better than it did online.”

The realtor brought the two inside, leading them through a whirlwind tour. “It’s a classic LA Victorian, built around 1920 by the doctor to the stars at the time.” She stopped and gestured to the stained glass windows and lights. They did offer a small fraction of light in the dark and gloomy house. “It’s just fabulous. These are real Tiffany fixtures.”

Heidi elbowed Evan. “Tiffany. Wow.” She whispered. Evan allowed a shy smile as he fell behind, watching the realtor and his mom continue ahead. They made their way to the kitchen, where the realtor went on and on about the updated appliances and something called a pasta arm. The pack continued into a small room with a large bay window surrounding a semicircle shaped alcove. 

“When I saw the pictures of this room online, I thought maybe you could use it as your music room.” Evan’s mom said, turning around to find her son. 

“Are you a musician?” The realtor asked, focusing her attention on Evan for the first time.

Evan didn’t like the realtor. She was intimidating, and her eyes were open too wide all the time. “I, um-”

“He used to play the flute.” 

“Used to?” The realtor moved closer to Evan, who stepped back. “Why did you quit?”

“The wallpaper’s peeling over here,” Heidi noted, pulling at a corner of the wallpaper. “Looks like there’s a mural underneath it.”

“The last owners probably covered it up.” The realtor said a little bit too quickly. “Speaking of the last owners, full disclosure requires that I tell you about what happened to them.”

Heidi let out a small, nervous chuckle. “Oh, god. They didn’t die in here or anything, did they?”

“Yes, actually. Both of them.” She deadpanned. “Murder-suicide.”

“Where’d it happen?” Evan asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth. He regretted the moment he said it, but something in the pit of the stomach was deeply unsettled, and he needed to know.

The realtor looked shocked. “The basement.”

“You know what?” Heidi said, clearly trying to put an end to the conversation. “We’ll take it.”

 

~

 

“Doesn’t this place freak you out a little bit?” Evan asked over a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate in the empty kitchen. “I mean, be-because of what happened here.”

Heidi took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. “My repulsion is tempered by the fact that this house is worth four times than what we payed for it.” 

“But-”

“So let’s not think about it. It’s a beautiful house that is going to be perfect for us. What happened to the last owners was an unfortunate accident, that’s all.”

Evan drained his drink and put the cup in the plastic bag they had designated for trash. Heidi did the same. “Let’s go to bed. I think the movers put in our beds this afternoon.”

Evan tried to smile. “Okay.”

“Hey.” Evan’s mom put a hand on his shoulder. “This is going to be the right move for us. We’re going to flourish here, I just know it. Besides,” she added with a laugh, “you never really liked the cold weather anyway.”

“I guess.” 

She didn’t deserve any of the shit she got. Evan felt… guilty. Guilty for his pills and his stuff and how they needed to find a new therapist. He was a burden.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get breakfast at that little diner I saw downtown. Sound good?”

A burden. She’ll be better off without you. “Sounds good.”

 

~

 

The next morning, to Evan’s surprise, Heidi stuck to her word and took them out to breakfast. The diner in mention was a small restaurant called The Crab Trap sandwiched between a tourist shop and a church with a sign out front claiming, “YOU’RE ON HEAVEN’S MOST WANTED LIST!”

The Crab Trap was hopping, as Evan’s mother would say. Almost every booth was crowded, and the only seats they were able to find were up at the bar. The bar didn’t really function as a full bar, just an opportunity for bottomless mimosas and refills on coffee. A pack of teenagers with matching t-shirts from some sort of play did ‘syrup shots’ next to them (a ‘syrup shot’, Evan observed, consisted of blindly choosing a syrup from the caddy on the table, filling a spoon with a heaping pile of syrup, and downing the spoon. It seemed like some sort of rite of passage ritual, but Evan never really knew with teenagers). 

One server with a small nametag bearing the name “TALIA” came over, balancing plates, mugs, and menus on her arms as she hummed along to the radio. 

“Could I have a small coffee, please?” Heidi asked, pushing her mug towards the server. “With just a little bit of cream, please.”

Talia went right to business, filling the cup up to the brim and returning it quick as a flash. “I’ve never seen you folks around. Tourists?”

“No, we’re new in the neighborhood.” 

“Really? Damn. Where?”

“Um… 313 Cedar Crest.” Heidi took a sip of her coffee and smiled. “Big Victorian place?”

Talia tutted disapprovingly. “They really should take that house off the market.”

The coffee cup froze on the way to Heidi’s mouth. “Why?”

“Always gave me the heebie-jeebies. There used to be this little girl in the neighborhood who would always tell people they were going to die in that house. And with its history…” Talia shook her head. “Good luck. Do you know what you want?”

Evan could tell his mom was in shock. “Yeah- uh… um, I, um, I’ll have the belgian waffles?”

Talia scribbled on her notepad and turned to Evan. “And you?”

“Uh… pancakes?”

“Uh-huh. Whipped cream, strawberries, or chocolate chips?” Evan shook his head ‘no’. “Alrighty. Well, I’ll get that out to you in a few minutes.”

As soon as Talia had disappeared into the kitchen, Heidi turned to Evan with a disappointed look in her eyes. 

Burden. Inconvenience. Guiltyguiltyguilty-

“Why didn’t you ask for strawberries, Evan?” She asked. She didn’t seem angry or confrontational, just. Defeated.

“I-I didn’t want to be a hassle.”

“You’re not a hassle for asking for toppings, honey. It’s their job.” Heidi took her son’s hands in her own. “Come on. We’re making a fresh start, right? You’re not inconveniencing anyone for wanting things.”

Evan hung his head. She was ashamed of him. His mother was ashamed of having a fucked-up son and she moved them across the country to fix him and make him a normal, functioning human being. “Okay.”

“I have a declaration.” Heidi clapped her hands, startling Evan and the diners around them. “We’re going to make that house our own. We’re going to decorate it however we want and I’ll let you paint your room whatever color you could possibly dream up.”

Evan couldn’t deny the smile that passed his face. “Okay.”

“Good.” There was a light in his mother’s eyes, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She looked years younger. “We’re going to make this house our bitch.”


	2. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan meets some of the neighbors.

After they had gotten back from a filling and artery-clogging breakfast (that morphed more into brunch, given that Heidi made it a point to introduce herself to everyone in the diner), they set to the task of decorating. 

The movers had brought most of the big items in, like sofas and beds. But the rest was still in big cardboard boxes scattered around the house seemingly at random, with the ‘BATHROOM’ box in the master bedroom and the ‘MISC-MEMORIES’ box in the kitchen. 

“When I was little,” Heidi said, pulling a photo of the two out of the ‘MISC-MEMORIES’ box, “my best friend moved away and I remember I wanted to move too so I could make a fort out of the big cardboard boxes.”

Evan smiled.

“And then when we moved to Maine, I wanted to make my fort, but my mother reused them to store my baby clothes in.” She laughed and placed the picture frame on the shelf above the sink. “Can you imagine? All I wanted to do was build a box fort and she had to go and use them for the most boring thing on earth.”

“I don’t know how to make box forts.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” Heidi moved onto another box, pulling out the bubble wrap with gusto. “I’m simply sharing an anecdote from my past. You know, I wished they sold bubble wrap to just pop.”

Evan felt his brain short-circuit. “They… they do?”

“You know what I mean. See, I can tell this move is going to be good for you. You’re getting sassy!”

“I-I don’t. Um. Want to?”

“I’ve always wanted, deep down, a sassy teenage daughter to gossip with and watch chick flicks.” She ruffled Evan’s hair. “But I got you instead. I’m the luckiest mom in the world, you know that?”

She’s lying, Evan thought. She hates you and she wishes she had a daughter. She never wanted you anxiety-ridden, hopeless, C-student mess. Evan wanted to scream. Instead, he just smiled.

“And you’re the luckiest kid because you’ve got me as a mom instead of some WASPy-” Heidi cut herself off by holding a finger to Evan’s lips. 

“Do you hear that?” She asked, staring intensely at the ceiling as if expecting to look straight through the floorboards to the source of the sound.

“No.” Evan said, but as soon as the words left his mouth he heard it. The faint strains of music from upstairs. He could barely make it out as music, it was so quiet it seemed more like a distant hum. 

“Can you check that out?” Heidi frowned at her son’s apprehensive face. “I know, I know. But I’ll be down here with 911 cued up on my phone, I promise.”

Evan made his way up the dark stairs, his heart pounding with every step. This could be the last moment of his life. He would get bludgeoned to death by an axe murderer and then he would scream and his mom would come looking forward and she would get murdered too. Then eventually people would come around to investigate and find them, dead, in dirty sweatpants and sweaty t-shirts, all covered in blood and maggots. And the killer would get away because nobody would care about who killed them and the case would get put in the back of the file drawer until the murderer would be finally apprehended after a lengthy killing spree and a riveting car chase.

The music leached out of a closed door at the end of the hallway. It turned out to be very loud music, but Evan decided there must’ve been very good soundproofing in the house. So if he screamed for his life, nobody would hear him.

“Sometimes, I feel I gotta get away  
Bells chime, I know I gotta get away  
And I know if I don't, I'll go out of my mind  
Better leave her behind with the kids, they're alright  
The kids are alright…”

Evan eased the door open. It was his new bedroom, inhabited by a girl dancing wildly about the room. 

She danced with reckless abandon, tossing her head and jumping and grinding her hips against the air. 

“I know if I go, things would be a lot better for her-”

“Who are you?” Evan blurted. Well, he was aiming for an intimidating ‘who are you’, but it came out more like “hmu?”

“Oh!” The girl said, turning to face him. “My name’s Zoe. I, uh, I live next door?”

“Wha-what are you doing in my house?”

“Funny story, actually.” Zoe looked around the room with a certain air of nostalgia. “We used to live here before we moved. This was my brother’s room.”

“And the-the-” Evan pointed at Zoe’s phone, which was still playing music. 

“It’s his favorite song. I’m more of a Quadrophenia gal, but to each their own, I guess.”

From within the depths of the house came a shrill, “ZOE MURPHY!”

Zoe winced. “Shit.” Then, without as much as a breath in between, hollered back, “I’M COMING, MOM!”

Evan jumped. “You- I should, um.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll go.” Zoe picked up her phone and slipped it in the front pocket of her overalls, which was most likely a Maryland trend Evan wasn’t aware about. Evan wasn’t 100% up to speed on clothing trends, especially those of teenage girls, but Zoe seemed like she would be trendy. With ripped overalls and a red flannel tied around her waist (wasn’t that a trend in the nineties? Evan had seen enough old pictures of his college-age, grunge-loving mother to know that flannels were all the rage, along with fanny packs and Britney Spears), she seemed to personify cool teenage hipster chic. 

They walked down to the kitchen together, which was odd considering just a few minutes before Evan was worrying about an axe murderer and now he was walking next to her like they were BFFs. 

Heidi seemed to be taken hostage by a woman in a tracksuit who was forcing a small tin on her. “Take it,” the woman pushed, “you’ll want it.”

“I really don’t- Evan!” She looked beyond relieved at the appearance of her son. 

The woman turned. “Zoe! What have I told you about coming here? This isn’t our house anymore. It’s the-” She turned to Heidi. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t give it.” Evan’s mom smiled reluctantly but politely. “Heidi Hansen. This is my son, Evan.”

“Wonderful. My name is Cynthia Murphy, I live next door. This is my little angel, Zoe.” 

Zoe rolled her eyes. “I thought your ‘little angel’ was Connor.”

Cynthia kept smiling, but she was shooting murder eyes at her daughter. “A mother can have multiple angels, can’t she?” Cynthia took Zoe under her arm, and by the way Zoe squeaked, her grip was crushing. “Anyway, I hope you enjoy your little housewarming gift.”

She forced the tin into Heidi’s hands. “I wanted to bake you a pie, but Zoe tends to get a little… experimental with the cooking, so I thought this would be better. Help get rid of some of that bad juju.” She paused, seemingly unaware that the explanation she gave was completely useless. “It’s sage. For cleansing the spirits in the house.” Cynthia shuddered and looked around the kitchen as if it were rife with meaning. “Too many bad memories in here. Come on, Zoe. Let’s get home.”

Zoe shot one last look back at Evan. “See you around.”

Evan held up a hand in a halfhearted wave. 

As soon as the door slammed shut, Heidi turned to Evan and deadpanned, “well, they were weird.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from Evan’s stomach and soon the two were giggling messes, laughing about nothing in the privacy of their kitchen. “Remind me,” Heidi said, “to get new locks.”

 

~

 

Evan watched from the upstairs window as his mother put their sheets on the clothesline to dry, the multicolored sheets billowing in the wind like flags at their own little backyard pride parade. 

“Isn’t this cool?” Heidi hollered up, completely ignoring the fact that she could be heard perfectly from Evan’s spot by the open window without shouting. “I’ve always wanted a clothesline!”

Evan was glad she was so happy, but he was pretty sure it would get old real quick. 

A woman walked right up to Heidi, and Evan was just about to scream for help when his mother turned around, jumping a bit before calmly asking, “may I help you?”

The woman walked forward. “I’m Moira O’Hara. I’m the housekeeper.”

“Oh. I didn’t know this place came with a housekeeper.” 

Evan thought his mom was being strangely nonchalant about the whole situation. If a weird old lady had walked up to him in his backyard, Evan was pretty sure he would faint on the spot. 

“Why are you hanging your sheets?” The woman said. “Perfectly good electric dryer inside.”

“I don’t quite know,” Heidi said with a laugh, turning to fasten another clothespin on the line. “I guess I’ve always wanted to do it the natural way.”

“I work Monday through Thursday,” the woman said. She had no emotional range in her tone; it was all straight monotone. “Thanksgiving on, Christmas off. That was the deal with the last fellows.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just not sure that we’re going to need a housekeeper. Plus, we’re Jewish.” 

The woman looked up at the house. For a moment, Evan was sure she was staring straight at him. He felt cold, all of the sudden. Like he was standing in a ghost’s shadow.

“Have you ever owned a house this old before?”

“No.”

“It has a personality, feelings.” Although her demeanor was light, her words carried a weight of warning. “Mistreat it and you’ll regret it.” She paused and looked back up, and Evan was positive she was looking at him. Or more accurately, something just over his shoulder. Evan turned, but there was nothing there. The cold feeling dissipated. “May I come in?”

Heidi led her inside, and Evan ran down the stairs to the kitchen, trying to shake the lingering goosebumps. 

“So, you worked for the previous owners?” Heidi asked, casually pouring two cups of tea. When she saw Evan arrive, she grabbed a third mug from the cabinet. 

“I’ve been the housekeeper here for years. They come, they go. I stay. They were both nice boys, the ones before you.” Her voice was hushed, mournful, yet still unwaveringly calm. “I found the bodies.”

Evan and his mother pulled matching faces of horror. 

“I cleaned the mess. You’d never know.” She took a sip of tea.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Heidi asked. Evan shook his head ‘no’. “Do you ever get tired of cleaning up other people’s messes?”

“We’re women. It’s what we do. I just get paid for it.”

“Yeah.” Heidi seemed to have a sudden realization. “Oh, Moira, this is my son, Evan.”

Moira turned to face Evan. One of her eyes was a glassy, pale blue, a stark contrast to its brown twin. She lifted her hand and waved, the kind where just the fingers floated in the air. Evan smiled awkwardly. “Um. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She winked with her blue eye. Evan tried not to shiver in disgust. “I should get going,” she said, “but I’ll be back on Monday to start working.”

Then she gathered her jacket and left, swinging her hips behind her as if she was a twenty-something waitress looking for tips and not an old woman in a frumpy maid’s uniform. 

“So, what do you think?”

“Are- you’re hiring her?” Evan didn’t trust her. Sure, she seemed nice, but she had a dangerous air about her. 

And her way of staring at something just behind Evan’s shoulder.

“Yeah. She’s a bit kooky, but I like her. Plus, she’s been here forever and she knows the house.” Heidi grinned. “I’ve never had a housekeeper before. Oh, this house makes me feel like a princess!”

They went out to dinner that night at a touristy restaurant right on the water. Evan ordered a hamburger, despite his mother’s urging to get the crab.

He had never really liked seafood. 

She took hundreds of pictures of the water and her food and her wine glass against a backdrop of the water. She seemed happy, and although Evan wanted nothing more than to see his mother happy, he felt like he was in a dream that they were quickly going to wake up from. 

Who put Old Bay on a hamburger? 

When Evan got home, the cold danced around the room. He couldn’t walk from wall to wall without feeling a chill, but it was never in one place. He chalked it up to a draft, but the scraping of tree branches against his window still put him on edge. 

Strains of music leaked in through the small crack he had left the window open. Electric guitar. The rustling leaves seemed to make their own drumline, and the wind provided a haunting melody. 

Evan pulled the blanket tighter.

He still felt cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeyyy y'alllll  
> how's it hanging?? i'm very stressed with schoolwork and shit also,,, i'm terrified of getting shot up in school?? so school is an even more stressful experience for me right now? i love living in america haha  
> comment and kudos so if i die it won't be in vain

**Author's Note:**

> howdy pardners  
> if you're here, thanks for reading. if not, fuck you.  
> listen i knooowwww Heidi is a single lady second only to Beyonce but i needed her to have some boyfriends for.. ya know... plot development i'm sorry  
> comment and give kudos and make me feel special please


End file.
